Page 52 of Liam (Preston Brothers #4)

Addie

I need therapy.

Lots of it.

And, thankfully, there’s a psych office nearby that might just do the trick.

I also need sleep.

Lots of that, too.

Maybe my new therapist can help with that.

I’m deranged.

Wait.

Can I be deranged if I know I’m deranged?

I should note that down, ask my fake therapist.

I’ve lost my mind.

And I wish I knew exactly when it was that I lost it.

It definitely wasn’t getting the so-called “bad” news about my parents, because fuck them.

Maybe it was the accident. Maybe it re-arranged my brain somehow, disconnected some wires or something.

Is that how it works? I should take some biology classes.

Anatomy? Wait. Am I even going back to school?

Maybe it happened before I even knew what was happening.

Maybe my parents doped me up with drugs when I was a kid and?—

No.

They wouldn’t.

I laugh at the thought.

They couldn’t .

They were far too selfish to share.

The fragmented memories keep flashing in my mind. Appearing and disappearing. Like those old movie reels that flicker, flicker, flicker, flick?—

“Addie,” Liam says, and I jolt at the sound of his voice. “We’re here.”

I’d been so deep in my own insanity that I’d forgotten where I was—and worse, who I was with.

I turn to him, sitting behind the steering wheel.

His hair is a mess, sticking up in all directions, and his eyes…

his eyes look as tired as I feel. And yet, his eyes alone make me feel more alive than I have in days.

Days.

It’s only been days since multiple grenades fell on my lap, and I feel like I’m still grasping on to the safety pins just to be sure they were real.

They were.

Yesterday, when Liam brought me home after the ballpark, he asked if I was okay. I told him I was good. I lied. I think he knew I lied, but he didn’t call me out on it.

Just like this morning—when I called him to ask for a ride. He was there within minutes. And when he asked where to take me, I told him I’d booked a therapy session. Another lie. Another non-call out.

I think he’s scared of me, and, after my not-so-little trauma dump, I don’t blame him.

I’m scared of me.

I look toward the old brick building and blink my fatigue away.

I’d mapped out exactly which of the ground-level offices I needed to go to, and even though it was an outdated image, not a lot has changed.

“I wish there were more windows,” I murmur and immediately regret it.

It’s such a stupid thing to think, let alone say out loud.

“They probably don’t want people seeing who’s inside,” Liam says.

I turn to him, his eyes gentle when they meet mine. I think it’s his eyes I’m drawn to the most. Not just kind, but warm, patient, older than their years.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asks, and I tear my gaze away from his and back to the building. He knows exactly why I’m here, but he won’t force me to admit it, and for that, I’m grateful.

So.

Am I ready for this?

The answer is a solid no. It has been since the accident. And unless I do something about it, that’s never going to change.

“I think it’s time,” I say, my voice cracking with emotion.

I face him before adding, “I can’t keep putting it off the way I have.

” That last part is more for me than him, because here’s another secret I’ve never told—I didn’t just come back here for Roman.

I came here for redemption. Because the pursuit of perfection includes redemption…

and redemption is realizing you’re imperfect.

Liam nods, as if understanding, and then takes my hand in his, squeezes once.

“I’m going to find a spot to park, and I’ll stay in the car for your entire session,” he says, playing along with my lie.

“I won’t leave.” He glances at the building before meeting my eyes again.

“That way, if you need me…” he trails off.

Then he kisses the inside of my wrist, his eyes never leaving mine.

“You got this, Addie, and if not, then I’m right here. ”

I look away, hoping to hide the tears threatening to fall. There’s so much good in his heart. Way too much to be wasted on me.

I attempt a calming breath, and then another, and with his words replaying in my mind, I open the door and cross the street.

Liam

The space between consciousness and oblivion is dark, filled with irrational thoughts, and void of the consequences that come with it.

I think Addie is there.

I can see it in the emptiness of her eyes, can sense it in her words, can feel it in her presence.

I know how it feels because I’ve been there before.

The difference is, I’ve never had to feel it alone.

Since before I was born, in the literal womb, I’ve always had someone beside me.

In front of me. Behind me. All around me.

I’ve always had Lincoln.

And I’m not saying that Addie doesn’t have anyone, but I don’t know that for sure.

And that space she’s stuck in? It’s bad enough as it is. I’d hate to think what it feels like to exist there alone.

That’s why I’m here.

That’s why I don’t question her choices.

Why I don’t stop her from doing what she thinks she needs to do.

She’s searching for light in the darkness of oblivion.

And if she can’t find it…

Then I’ll be here.

Beside her.

In front of her.

Behind her.

All around her.

And if I can’t be the light, then I’ll help her feel her way out of the shadows.

Addie

As much as I want to, I don’t look back at Liam for comfort, for encouragement.

Instead, I push open the door to Belinda Turner’s office.

From the research I’d done, she’s technically not a psychologist yet, but she’s close enough.

Not that it matters. I’m not here to see her.

I’m here to see the girl currently standing between two boys, both tall and athletic.

Their backs are to me when I step inside, and so they all turn away from the painting hanging on the wall and face me.

One by one, I lock eyes with each of them.

The boys first, the blond, then the dark-haired one.

I’d seen them both before through my online stalking.

Rhys Garrett and Dominic Delgado. It’s Dominic I worry about.

I didn’t expect him to be here, but… going by the way he’s looking at me, he has no idea who I am.

But it’s his sister, Olivia, who I came to see, and she definitely recognizes me.

Online stalking goes both ways, and I expected as much.

My name was in the police reports she’s no doubt read. My name is everywhere on my socials.

I wanted her to find me, and she did.

She wrote to me once, years ago, but she’d already deleted it before I could read it. I never asked her what she had to say. I should have. Maybe I wouldn’t be here if I did.

I’ve barely opened my mouth to speak—to apologize —before she takes a step forward, her hands fisted at her sides. “Get. Out,” she seethes.

“I just wanted??—”

“Get out!” she yells this time, marching toward me, and I retreat until my back hits the door.

“Ollie!” her brother gasps; at the same time, her boyfriend circles his arm around her waist.

A door opens, and a brunette woman steps out, looking between all of us. She must be the therapist, but again, I’m not here for her. “Is there a problem?”

Olivia’s eye narrow. “No problem,” she says, her eyes never leaving mine. “The girl who killed my grandparents was just about to leave.”

My eyes widen, and I make the mistake of looking at her brother—just in time to see the color drain from his face. Vision blurred by the tears I’ve held onto for years, I face Olivia again. “I’m so??—”

“No!” She shrugs out of her boyfriend’s hold and steps closer until we’re toe to toe. Eye to eye. “You don’t get to say anything to me or my family, do you understand?”

I nod, ignoring the single tear that falls from my lashes.

And then she leans in, her breath warming against my ear when she whispers, “Don’t think for a single second that I don’t know what you did.”

My heart stops beating, falls to my stomach.

When she pulls back, my wide eyes stay on hers. And then she smiles, as if she just won a game. “I know everything .”

I leave, ignoring the bile in my throat and the ache in my chest, and retrieve my phone, my hands shaking as I type out a text.

Addie

Please come back!

Liam

On my way.

Liam

I was already out of my minivan, leaning against the hood, when I watched her come out of the office and send me the text. Already crossing the street when I replied to it.

She’s on the sidewalk, going in the wrong direction, away from where I parked, and she’s crying. I can’t see it or hear it, but I can sense it, even from a few steps away.

“Addie!” I call out, and she turns, practically falls into my arms.

Before I can fully assess the situation, a male voice barks from behind me. “Hey!” I turn to see Rhys Garrett marching toward us. “Don’t fucking do that again.”

I stand in front of Addie, blocking his path. “Do you have to do this now?”

His gaze flicks to mine, the rage in his voice clashing with the confusion in his stare. “Lincoln?”

“No.” I shake my head, stand taller. “I’m the other one.”